I'm technically proficient

...despite certain attitude issues

After three hellish days in detox, Abby is finally feeling well enough, relatively speaking, to settle into a routine of sorts at the inpatient rehab center she's checked herself into. Throughout the detox process, throughout the tremors, nausea, debilitating headaches, and insomnia, all she's thought of (other than having a drink) is Lee and Lily. She's cried more than she'd ever admit, missing her husband and daughter and home almost to the point that she feels it physically. She almost regrets saying she needs to do this alone, but knows she'd never be able to do it if this wasn't her decision and hers alone.

But she still needs them. More than she's ever admitted to herself before. She takes a shower, subconsciously wanting to be fresh and clean for her first allowed phonecall after a successful completion of the detox process. She makes her way from her room to the main floor where she waits, impatiently, for her allotted time slot to begin.

When she finally gets on the phone, she freezes for a moment, her fingers forgetting what to do, what numbers to dial. When she shakes herself and dials the familiar numbers of Lee's phone, she can feel her heart banging around in her chest. What can he think of her now? Maybe he won't even want to talk to her. Maybe he's relieved to be rid of her and the mess she's made of her life. She wouldn't blame him, and she can feel her palms sweating as she listens to the phone ring.

He's sitting in the den mindlessly flipping tv channels as he watches Lily play with some toys. The little girl's been mostly oblivious to the tension her father's felt in the past few days that his wife's been gone. He worries about Abby, how she's doing, if she's really getting the help she needs...if it will work.

When the phone rings, he doesn't recognize the number on the caller ID. He hesitates before answering, not really wanting to talk to anyone. Hello?

I'm glad to hear that, baby. His voice is soft, warm, as he speaks to her. He doesn't mean to do it but part of him thinks of her as fragile and he speaks to her as if she is. Are you settled in? Do you need anything?

Part of her bristles at the tone of his voice, but she's too relieved just to be talking to him, too glad he's not written her off yet, to take too much offense at the way he's babying her. No, I just...needed to hear your voice.

He nods, sorry he's said anything about it now. She's congested but it's not that bad. We sleep with the vaporizer on and she's been propped up against me. Actually she seems to like that. Not being in her crib.